


Modern

by L122ytorch



Category: Smallville
Genre: Dream Sex, First Kiss, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: Bruce takes a "mopey" Clark to a Modern Art opening where the young hero unexpectedly runs into Lex.





	1. Chapter 1

No matter where he went, Clark felt like an imposter. He was an alien masquerading as a human, insecure pretending to be brave, a superhero trying to pass as a “regular guy” and now…among Metropolis’ elite, he was once again trying to pass as someone who “belonged.”

Bruce didn’t give him a choice, he simply came back with Clark to the cave after a mission, took off his cowl and said, “I hope you don’t have plans on Saturday.”

The next day, a knock sounded at Clark’s apartment door and one of Bruce’s messenger’s was standing on the other side. Despite Clark’s protests, the messenger handed Kent several bags, explaining that if he didn’t accept them, he would likely be fired. With a sigh, Clark begrudgingly took the bags, including a suit bag, thanked the messenger and took the items inside to investigate. 

There was a black glossed note on top of a Gucci bag that he reached for first. 

‘This Saturday is the opening exhibition of the revamped Modern Art Museum. Wayne Industries has poured a lot of money into the arts, including the newest wing of the museum. We’re going. I’m tired of you moping and we both need a break. Wear everything I sent you, the limo will be outside at 7pm. -B’

He hadn’t been moping! Okay…he had been moping…but brooding was what Bruce was all about! Who was he to call out Clark? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. And modern art? A new exhibition in a refurbished museum likely to be filled with the richest people in the state? This was not Clark’s scene and Bruce knew it, but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice in the matter. 

His large tan hands searched through the bags pulling out socks, a forest green tie, gold cufflinks new jet-black dress shoes and an undershirt. Just these items alone must have cost Bruce a ton of money, the cufflinks were actual gold! Ugh, he was going to kill Bruce and he hadn’t even ventured over to the suit bag yet. The black, intimidating Gucci suit bag was carried straight to the closet and deposited there. 

Clark was moping, but in his defense, he had every right to. His relationship to Lois had ended three months ago, he was two weeks jobless, and lately he had been having strange dreams. 

It was the dreams that had been plaguing him the most, so much so that he didn’t want to go to sleep at night. The kicker was that they weren’t “bad” or “scary” dreams per se. 

Once Kent laid his head on the soft down pillow and exhaustion overpowered his consciousness, the dream would come to life in THX surround sound and HD clarity. Lex’s slate gray eyes were waiting for him in this skewed dream world. At first the dreams would only consist of Lex’s form, his mouth moving with words that Clark wouldn’t remember when he awoke. And then he would be touching Lex in the dream, or Lex would be touching him - just innocent touches, a hand on a shoulder, fingers wrapped around an arm. 

But the touches felt so real that long after Clark awoke, his skin tingled wherever Lex’s ghost hands had touched. And then the dream’s evolved once more. In last night’s dream…Lex was waiting for Clark as he came up the steps to his loft in Smallville. He wore a lavender button-down, his mouth twisting into a familiar smirk, his expensive trademark cologne wafting into the space between them. Clark walked towards him as if in a trance, and Lex’s hands landed on his chest, then skimmed to his arms and down to his hands where their fingers twined together. 

Lex leaned close, his breath tickling Clark’s lips as he spoke, “you are all that is good in me.” The words were a whisper, eerily quiet, yet they seemed to scream through Clark’s soul, reverberating in his mind even as dream Lex’s lips finally crashed against his own. His lips were as clever at kissing as they were at speaking, his tongue doing wicked things inside of Clark’s mouth, pulling moans up from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Dream Clark clung to dream Lex, moving his mouth fervently in tandem with Lex’s. It felt like having the first sip of water after spending a week in the desert. It felt like breathing life back into Lex’s drowned body. It felt like the first time Clark had ever flown.

He awoke with a start, his heart beating wildly in his chest and harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

The dreams felt so real that Clark couldn’t shake the emotional aftershocks of them no matter how many hours passed or how many people he was busy saving. 

Maybe Bruce was right in trying to get his mind in “a better place.” Clark hadn’t offered up what was “going on” with him to Bruce, and Bruce didn’t ask. Still, he knew that the older man could sense something was seriously off. 

God, Clark was exhausted. He didn’t necessarily ‘need’ sleep, but after a few weeks of these dreams, he felt completely run down and emotionally inside out. All he could do now was wait for Saturday, 7pm.


	2. Chapter 2

As promised, at 7pm sharp, a midnight black limo pulled up outside of Clark’s apartment. It seemed woefully out of place in the humble neighborhood, like a black panther perched in the corner of a dog park. 

The suit Bruce bought him fit like a glove, which was a little disarming, and the rich luxurious fabric reminded him of Lex. Still, he shoved those thoughts to the background as he had gotten ready and bounded down the steps towards the limo.

The ride was nearly thirty minutes with traffic, but it passed quickly with Bruce for company. Some part of Clark’s brain wondered why his suave mentor didn’t have some gorgeous female arm candy, but he didn’t dwell too much on that either. It felt nice to be around Bruce in a capacity that wasn’t related to saving the world. 

The Modern was immaculate and Bruce blended right in with the elite crowd. Slinking between the women dripping in jewels and the men in their tuxes, Clark was grateful that it was the Kents who had found him in the field that day. He couldn’t imagine being brought up in the world that Bruce and Lex belonged to. 

Oh shit. Lex. 

Clark’s head whipped around frantically, the realization that Lex was probably here dawning on him. Luckily, there was no bald head in sight. With a deep breath, Clark allowed himself to relax. Bruce shoved a drink into his hand and he graciously gulped it down.

The music was more up-tempo than the classical that Clark had expected, and the art was pretty amazing too. Most people wouldn’t expect a farm boy to have an appreciation for art, but his time with Luthor in high school must’ve rubbed off. Clark greatly appreciated art, and modern art required even more analysis, which he enjoyed. It helped keep his mind off…other things. 

Things his mind wanted to wander to included…how good Bruce looked in his navy blue suit and white tie…how he must’ve looked next to Bruce in his onyx black suit and green tie that hopefully brought out his eyes. It also felt odd for Clark to be at an event like this but not in the capacity as a reporter for The Daily Planet. And without Lois on his arm, Clark felt a certain nakedness. 

“You look absorbed in thought,” a familiar voice said over Clark’s shoulder. He turned and came face to face with Jimmy Olsen. “Jimmy!” he grinned, stretching his arms wide and wrapping his old coworker in his strong arms. “It’s so good to see you CK!” 

“Good to see you too!” Kent grinned back. “How’s it going at the Planet?” 

“Peachy keen, but we miss you like crazy Kent.”

“Yeah, I miss you too.”

“That was one hell of a going away speech you gave though!” 

“Thanks man!” 

Jimmy watched as Clark’s familiar warm expression melted away and his eyes fixed on something over his shoulder. The young photographer turned around and spotted the object of Clark’s sudden interest.

“Hey…I’ll uh…catch you later, alright?” Clark clapped him on the shoulder. “Seriously, call me when you’re free and we’ll grab coffee.”

“Absolutely CK!” Jimmy replied enthusiastically as Clark flashed him one last smile and gravitated towards someone else familiar. 

Even though it was reality, it felt as though Clark was floating towards his destination.

“Lex,” Clark spoke in what he thought was a regular voice, but came out as more of a strangled whisper. 

“Well, if it isn’t Clark Kent,” Lex drawled. 

The billionaire was all sly smiles and sharp teeth, his gray eyes enveloping Clark like an encroaching thunderstorm. 

“How are you Lex?” 

The older man’s eyes grew darker and narrowed. “I don’t know if you missed the memo, but we haven’t been friends for years Clark.”

Lex was surprised at the effect of his words, Clark’s expression instantly fell and even worse…Lex almost felt bad about it.

“I know…” Clark struggled not to stammer, “I just…it’s just…”

“As a journalist, you’d think that you would be able to string together an intelligible sentence.”

“I’m not a journalist anymore,” Clark muttered. 

“Just because you don’t work at the Planet anymore, doesn’t mean you’re not a journalist anymore,” Lex offered. 

“I don’t know what I am,” Clark admitted, his expression too open, too honest. His memories of the dreams came flooding back the instant he saw Lex. 

In the few times he had seen Lex since Smallville, their conversations were never cordial. He had clashed with Lex several times as Superman and several times as Clark Kent. Usually they went back and forth, spitting accusations and insults. As Superman, Clark would dredge up something illegal that Lex was doing, and Lex would rail on about unstable aliens with too much power and imaginary possible future invasions. 

Clark…Superman…no matter what he was, he was always seeking truth, justice, whatever could save a life but never…happiness. In his dreams…he felt happy then.

“What is going on with you?” Lex asked, his head tilted in interest, eyes thoroughly examining a very unusual-acting Clark Kent. 

Clark took a step forward, into Lex’s space. It was too easy to let his expression go soft and the words slip out.

“I miss you Lex,” he whispered, pain evident in his voice, tears threatening to gather behind his eyes for some unknown reason, and in that moment, in those four syllables, Lex’s expression betrayed his shock.


	3. Chapter 3

Damn, what was wrong with him? That expression of surprise was so beautifully painted on Lex’s face that he wanted to keep it there. Luthor’s thin pink lips were parted, preparing to supply some response, and the tip of his champagne doused tongue snuck out to lick at his scar for a moment. The movement caught Clark’s eye and arousal surged through him which only darkened Lex’s storm cloud eyes.

“Hey baby,” a silk voice cut through the loaded space between Kent and Luthor. A gorgeous brunette woman appeared at Lex’s side. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” she asked him.

“Of course, Olivia, this is Clark Kent. Clark, this is my girlfriend Olivia,” Lex said dryly. Only someone who had known him a very long time could see the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled in irritation. 

“Girlfriend?” Olivia smiled slyly. “I think it’s safe to say fiancé at this point,” she pointedly placed her left hand on Lex’s shoulder. 

Clark’s heart sunk into his stomach and the world around him lurched. 

“Oh,” Clark struggled to reign in his shock and disappointment. “Congratulations,” he said hollowly. 

“Thank you,” the gorgeous stranger beamed. Her head turned towards Lex, and eyes as blue as jewels took in her fiancé’s face. “We haven’t formally announced it, but I think the ring says it all.” 

Olivia looked genuinely happy and the rock on her ring finger glistened beneath the night sky. Just outside the museum in the elaborate garden, the night was warm but a sick roll of cold washed over Clark. 

“How do you know Lex?” she asked.

God…Lex hadn’t even mentioned him to her. And he knew nothing of this woman. Lex’s past homicidal wives flitted through Clark’s mind like a twisted photo album and it made him sick that he was so far removed from Lex’s life.

“Uh…we knew each other in Smallville.” 

Her eyes narrowed as if trying to recall something. 

“Isn’t that the town that your father had you exiled to when you were younger?” 

“So I’m told,” Lex replied. 

“You don’t remember Smallville?” Clark squeaked in alarm. Clark knew that Lex had lost a lot after Lionel subjected him to shock therapy but the idea that Lex had forgotten their friendship made him want to puke. 

“I remember bits and pieces, but it was such a long time ago,” Lex took a sip of the champagne in his hand. “Clark here saved my life once,” Lex added, as if it were an afterthought. 

“What? Wow! How?” Olivia asked.

Clark stammered and then caught his footing enough to form a coherent sentence. “I…uh…Lex went over a bridge in his Porsche and landed in Elbow River. I jumped in, pulled him from the car and gave him mouth to mouth.”

“I wonder if that counts as my first kiss,” Clark added in a whisper, meant to be spoken in his thoughts but floating awkwardly between the three of them. 

The shocked look returned to Lex’s face and Clark grinned…a Kal grin….a red K predatory grin. Pride surged in his chest at throwing Lex off his game, but the billionaire quickly schooled his expression back to neutral. 

“We’ll have to thank you sometime,” Olivia said, ignoring his comment after a quick chuckle. “Perhaps you could come to dinner?” 

“Oh…no…” Clark answered far too fast. “I…Lex already repaid me with his friendship…in Smallville. The only reward I wanted was his friendship,” Clark said almost sadly. He cleared his throat and looked around nervously. 

“Well…it was lovely meeting you Olivia, and it was great to see you Lex,” Clark flashed his brightest grin. “I’ll let you guys enjoy the night.”

Slipping away from the newly engaged couple, Clark felt like crying. Whatever part of his brain that prompted him to walk towards Lex in the hopes of mending his torn heart had betrayed him. Olivia’s face hung in his thoughts like a ghost. 

‘Another wife. Another fucking wife,’ Clark thought.

Full sulk mood was in gear and since the night was winding down, the slow melodic music wasn’t helping his emotional state. Perfect setting for full-blown wallowing. 

Clark leaned on the wrought iron railing and looked out at the city beyond the museum. 

“Who died?”

Kent whipped around and found his friend Bruce. 

“No one.”

“You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

Clark attempted a smile. “Sorry,” he bit his bottom lip in a pout that made Bruce want to scream. “I guess tonight just didn’t go how I thought it would.” 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not glad you came?” 

Clark shot up from his slump, “oh! No! I didn’t mean…it’s not because of you…it’s just…I…” Clark floundered and Bruce thought it was endearing.

“So you are glad you came?” Bruce asked, placing an elbow on the railing and turning towards Clark with a confused expression. 

“Yes, I am! I got some news I wasn’t expecting, but I…I always enjoy the time we get to spend together outside of…” he trailed off. 

Bruce huffed a laugh and finished the whiskey in his glass. 

“Thank you for all of this Bruce, I did really need a distraction.”

“Well it seems to have backfired. Wanna tell me what bad news you got?” 

Clark just frowned and shook his head from side to side. “I’d rather focus on…”

“On what?” 

“On…us,” Clark said awkwardly. “You went way out of your way to bring me. To hang out,” he grinned.

“Do you enjoy hanging out?” 

“Of course!” 

“Good.”

“Do you?”

“No comment.”

Clark laughed. “Undecided?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well maybe I can convince you of my awesomeness with a dance.” 

Bruce looked at him skeptically and silence hung between them. 

The older man watched as Clark’s expression fell. “You don’t want to dance with me?” 

“No, that’s not it Clark,” Bruce now felt like a dick. Damage control. “It’s just that there are a lot of people here and they’re slow songs and people will think…” “…we’re together. Oh. Yeah.”

Clark had told Bruce that he was bisexual about three months ago. His friend simply grunted, shrugged and continued sipping his black coffee. 

“There’s nothing wrong with people thinking that but it may affect your life and my business.”

“Right. Duh, so stupid,” Clark shook his head, crestfallen. 

“No, not stupid. Fuck it. Let’s dance,” Bruce smiled.

“Are you sure? What if people think we’re together and you lose business or something?” 

“It’s 2018 Clark, if I lose business because people don’t condone homosexuality, then I don’t want to be doing business with them anyway.”

Clark felt a warm affection unfurl in his chest and Bruce extended his hand. Clark took it and they walked onto the dance floor in the center of the garden. Clark let Bruce lead, the feel of his calloused, strong hand in his felt like an anchor. God, Bruce smelled so good, like musk and wood and the forest after a spring rain. 

Clark subconsciously pulled him closer and halfway through the song, his head was bent and resting on Bruce’s shoulder. 

….

Once Lex had talked to Clark, he tried to will the final hour of the opening to go by faster, but to no avail. His eyes kept wandering around the immaculate crowd and landing on Clark throughout the evening. 

The night seemed uneventful until Lex’s eyes landed on the sight of Clark Kent dancing…SLOW DANCING…with Bruce-fucking-Wayne. 

His mouth went bone dry and a lethal mix of rage and jealousy coursed through his veins. 

This was insane, he hadn’t seen Clark in years. Kent graduated from Met U two years ago…he was 24 and Lex just turned 30. Luthor worked hard to put Clark out of his mind and now…not only was Clark on his mind…but he was imagining Clark with Bruce. He was picturing Clark sucking Bruce off or Bruce fucking Clark from behind and it made his blood boil. 

When the fuck did this happen? He knew Bruce from boarding school, he was older than Lex by three years…meaning he was almost a decade older than Clark. But god did they look good together. 

He could hear murmurs from the crowd around them. People were asking who Bruce was dancing with. Lex could’ve answered those questions, but he remained a statue, pointing a death glare in the direction of the dancing couple. 

He had always gotten along with Bruce in the past, but he felt the sudden, inexplicable urge to shove a massive sculpture onto Wayne and dance on his crushed body. 

…..

Clark was so absorbed in the feel of Bruce moving against him that he didn’t hear the murmurs around them. He was so absorbed in the sound of Bruce’s heartbeat, in the scent that clung to his neck, that Clark didn’t even notice that the song had stopped. Bruce must not have noticed either, because they kept dancing for another two minutes.


End file.
